


Prisoned

by Chibirini1



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Ben Solo Needs A Hug, F/M, Falling In Love, Hospital Sex, Hospitals, Loss of Virginity, Love Confessions, Missionary Position, Prison, Redeemed Ben Solo, Semi-Public Sex, Virgin Ben Solo, Virgin Rey
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-02
Updated: 2018-09-02
Packaged: 2019-07-05 17:15:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,579
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15868125
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Chibirini1/pseuds/Chibirini1
Summary: Thrown together in a prison cell after an ill-fated meeting, Ben and Rey struggle to survive. Their one strength is each other.





	Prisoned

**Author's Note:**

> i dont know why i wrote this lol

**Ben**

The only sound in our cell is the drip of the water faucet. It’s cold, and the door is so heavy that no sound from the hallway outside reaches us.

There is a single bed—no sheets, no blanket, just a plain, yellowish mattress. A single toilet, a single sink. How lucky we are to have unlimited water. Hux must have been feeling very indulgent over his victory when he assigned us to this cell.

It is really my fault. I was the one who called her to me, I was the one who was careless. Hux may have found out the secret of Snoke’s death on his own, but if she had not been here on this ship, she never would have been caught.

And then, selfishly, it was my surrender that doomed us. My stipulation—the only one of a desperate man at his knees—was that we would be together. At the time, I had no thoughts of companionship or tenderness, only the strategic mindset that we would be stronger together than apart. That we could break out more easily. But after weeks of captivation, I know now that companionship is all Rey and I can give each other. There is no chance of freedom in our hands—we can only hope that the scraggle of the resistance will somehow infiltrate this ship, then our prison, and rescue us.

Hux had sneered in our faces back when we had such hopes of rescuing ourselves, but I now realize his confidence was not unfounded. He had prepared for this, suspecting the truth all along. The Yslarmi implants, the force tampering cuffs, and the army of men ready to stand by his side all brought us to our now helpless state. We no longer wear cuffs—only because we don’t need to. The implant dims any use of the Force. I can no longer even lift my cup or sense those outside our door. But I can still sense Rey—perhaps because of our Force bond, but also perhaps because of the proximity.

She has not lost her spirit as I have. She still dreams of leaving, speaks about it even though she knows our movements are tracked by cameras. It helps her, I know, so I do not tell her to stop or discourage her. Only when I raged did I say such hurtful things, but now I do not even have that. Thankfully, I suppose.

I sit on the bed now, watching Rey do pushups on the floor to try and keep her strength up. She does it partly to keep warm as well—we have no blanket, and the room is frightfully cold, especially on her desert skin.

She grunts out the number she is on and I draw my gaze back into focus. I think if she was not here, I would go mad. I wonder often why Hux did indeed allow us to share a cell—perhaps he truly was confident enough to do so, or perhaps he thought it would be interesting to watch as we both fought our descent into helplessness.

I pull away from these thoughts as Rey stands. She frowns as she wipes her forehead—no sweat there. Her cheeks, paled from the constant florescent lights, hold only the barest hint of pink.

She crawls onto the small mattress and lays down before me. Stiffly, I unfold my cold limbs and wrap myself around her. We learned weeks ago to share body heat and got over the uncomfortableness of touching each other so…intimately.

She sighs and shivers as my breath fans over her skin.

“How is it that you are still so much warmer than I, even after my exercise?”

I shrug. “I am more used to the coldness of space, and I am larger than you.”

“Mmm. Well, I guess I’ll be grateful then.”

She does not laugh at her own words, so neither do I. We spend a lot of time in silence, because there is not much left to say.

In the beginning, we fought. I raged, she yelled, and we both tore ourselves to bits trying to escape our situation. But then acceptance came, and we both resigned ourselves to our fate a bit more. In that, and with the forced proximity, we came to accept each other.

Two things do remain unspoken of: The night we touched hands, and why I had called her to me just before Hux had sprang his trap. The first remains because of our own uncertainty, the second is my secret. I know she burns with curiosity, I can sense it sometimes, but I remain silent about it. She no longer asks.

“Ben?”

Her voice is small, and I know what she is going to ask of me.

“Hm?”

“Tell me again, what will happen after we are freed.”

I sigh, not from annoyance, but because of the effort I need to muster to find that small hope inside of me.

“They will take us somewhere hidden away, most likely on a planet in the outer rim. We will be given real food, real drinks. A sanisteam. We will be able to sleep in the darkness once more, be able to walk outside once more. Feel the warmth of a sun on our faces.”

This is what she wants, a description of hope and life. But as I speak, I can feel my mood darken.

“I will hunt down Hux. He will know, and he will hide. But I will find him, in some dark corner of the universe, and I will feel my hands around his throat—”

“Stop!”

I fall silent. Rey pulls herself from my arms, and I know she feels that I am sorry for upsetting her. She sits up and puts her arms around herself.

“I can’t stand it when you talk like that,” she says.

I sigh and roll over to face the bare white wall, feeling despondent. I hate feeling her disappointment. I wallow in this for a while, only noticing Rey when she falls asleep and curls up at my back, seeking my warmth unconsciously. But I do not put my arms around her, choosing instead to stare at the cold wall. I deserve the chill.

When the slot in our door opens, two trays of food are pushed in. I sit up and wake Rey up, for the warm food is valuable.

We inhale it without words despite it’s lack of taste. Rey remarks again how similar it tastes to her old rations on Jakku. I know it makes her feel anxious.

It is the last meal of our day, so we return to the mattress to sleep. I begin to turn away from her, but then think about how cold she will be if I do not share my warmth with her. Even if I deserve to suffer, she does not.

We wrap our arms around each other and she falls asleep first, as always. I wait until she is asleep to roll onto my back, taking her with me so that her head lays on my chest, her body partly covering mine. In this position, I allow myself to daydream so that I too may fall asleep. It is the only time during the entire day that I do this, and it is very different from her daydreams, I’m sure.

I imagine we are freed, that I am in a dark, private room of my own, getting ready to sleep. But I also dream that she is still there with me, by her choice, laying across my chest like she is now. I hear her breathe and imagine running my hand over her hair, down her back. Soothing her into deeper dreams. I do not dare do such a thing in real life even though she is right here with me. If she woke, I would be ashamed, and I do not dare make her uncomfortable. I know that none of this is her choice—I cannot take such liberties even if my hand aches to touch her familiarly, hold her tighter.

That is my secret; that is why I called her to me that fateful day. I was ready to be Ben once more, for her. I was ready to give it all up for just one more touch of her hand. But we were cruelly intercepted as soon as she got off her ship in the side hangar. I had said no more than two words to her when the ground had started shaking, when the hangar began to close. We had no chance.

I have no chance now. Even if I told her the truth of what I had meant to do that day, surely she wouldn’t believe me. I wonder again and again if she thought I meant to trap her. Never has she voiced this, but I could feel her unease when she got off the ship.

No one could love someone like me anyways, I think. Especially not after I got her into this mess.

A very, very small part of me dreads a rescue. It would mean the end of being able to touch her, hold her. A lifetime of watching her in another man’s arms—that horrid FN-2187—would begin.

And that, he thought, may be a worse hell than this.

~

Rey is beginning to get sick. She stopped exercising, opting to sleep more instead. She is always cold and coughing. I began to panic the moment she first coughed. Is she in a lot of pain? What can I do?

What if I lost her?

No. I couldn’t think like that. So I began to think of a plan.

I hold her close as she sleeps until it is almost time for our rations. I carefully remove myself from her, untangling our bodies from each other’s, and creep close to the door, crouching beside the slot, until the hand that always pushes our trays through emerges.

Quick as a flash, I grab it. The trooper whose hand I hold shouts for help, but I speak lowly, growling at this man in order to not wake Rey.

“Bring me a blanket, or this man’s wrist will be broken,” I hiss. There are murmurs on the other side of the door. Then some shouting for someone to get a blaster.

Suddenly I hear Rey stir.

“Ben?”

I seethe, clenching the man’s hand harder. He whimpers, and they fall quiet. But they woke her. Maybe I’ll break his wrist anyways. It would remind them what they had caged.

“Go back to sleep,” I order, but knowing Rey, she wouldn’t listen. I can’t look at her, fearing her reaction to what I am doing.

She doesn’t listen. She sits up, peering over at me from the bed.

“What are you doing?” She asked, fear creeping into her voice. My throat is dry, and I swallow as I try to control my temper.

“Getting a fucking blanket,” I reply, and she falls silent. One glance reveals that she is shocked, and my stomach turns. I return back to the situation at hand and begin twisting the man’s wrist. He curses.

“Get me a blanket NOW!” I roar. Finally, a rough wool blanket is partly pushed into the slot. I grab it with my free hand and yank it through. It is an ugly shade of brown, thin, but it is a blanket. It will keep her warm.

I squeeze the man’s wrist once more. “And tell General Hux to pay me a visit,” I hiss before releasing the offending arm.

I grab the blanket and stand, striding over to the bed where Rey lay, looking small and weak. I spread and tuck the blanket around her while she watches me with her large, hazel eyes.

“Wait,” she says. “You need it too.” She scoots over and lifts the blanket for me.

I feel myself fill with relief. Even though I had threatened them, almost breaking a man’s wrist in front of her, she still was willing to lay beside me. She was still going to let me touch her.

I slide in beside her and take her into my arms. She presses her feverish face to my neck and I hold her gratefully. Rey. Even here, she smells of sunshine and grass, the sweet musk of her permanently searing itself into my brain.

“Thank you,” I hear her speak quietly. I nod in response, my throat thick. If there was a god, I was praying to it. She needed to get better.

~

She got worse. Even the blanket did not help her. She began to get more delirious, kicking the blanket off and murmuring nonsensical things. I held her to me almost all the time as she began to sweat and turn restlessly, trying to keep the blanket on her and keep her warm.

“Ben,” she muttered one night. “Don’t leave me.”

“Hush,” I said, for I knew she was speaking nonsense. I couldn’t leave her even if I wanted to. But she began to cry and dug her nails not my light skin.

“Please Ben,” she begged. “Please.”

“Alright, I won’t,” I replied, and that seemed to settle her. I pressed my lips to the top of her head without her noticing. “I won’t ever leave you.”  

Finally she fell into a restless sleep. I untangled myself from her to use the toilet. I turned my back to her for some privacy, untucking myself from my pants. They gave neither of us undergarments, something that had been accidentally revealed to me as Rey had changed her shirt and pants one day to another pair of white, nondescript shirt and pants. I too wore the same garments, and hadn’t meant to look. But she had made a sound of struggle, and I had immediately been on alert. Since then I had been careful to give her as much privacy as possible, and she had done the same for me. Neither of us wanted to cross that line.

As I was peeing, I heard her stir and then moan my name. I carefully tucked myself back into my pants and then went to wash my hands.

“I’m here, Rey,” I said, and from the corner of my eyes I saw her rub her eyes wearily.

“Ben,” she said. “I keep having dreams.”

“What dreams?”

She curled into a small ball as I dried my hands on my pants.

“Dreams that they take you away while I sleep.”

I return to her, feeling her forehead and smoothing away the hair from her face.

“They couldn’t take me away without a fight, sweethear—I mean, Rey.”

I cursed myself for my slip, but she didn’t notice, only curling into me more. “If I wake up and you aren’t here, I just assume the dream was real,” she said.

I tilt her head up so that her glazed eyes meet mine. “No one will take me away from you,” I promised. Feeling overcome, I let her chin go and slid my eyes away. “I made a deal, remember?”

She nods slowly, her expression hard and unreadable. She closes her eyes.

“I’m so tired,” she murmurs, and I tuck her beneath my chin, where I can feel her heart beat against my skin.

“You’ll be ok,” I promise. She must be.

~

Eventually she gets better. We talk a lot, about our childhoods and Luke and being a Jedi. It is very hard for me not to tell her everything. She is honest and open even if I am not.

Hux does not come as I had requested, but I do not care. I only care about her. She is slowly recovering, the fever gone. She still has bad dreams, but waking with me there helps. I barely sleep, choosing instead to drift beside her in a type of meditation so I can be alert and awake if she stirs. I do not want to be vulnerable either. Hux could just decide to take me from her—and I know I would not survive it. She would, even weak and sickly as she is, for her mind is much stronger than mine. I would fall victim to madness before a week was up. I know this.

Sometimes she will hold my hand to her heart if she catches me worrying.

“Even without the Force, I can see your emotions,” she says. “You’re very expressive. Is that why you wore a mask?”

I shrug, and she lays her head on my shoulder. “I’m glad to see it.”

Why does every word of hers sway me so?

_You’re not alone._

_Neither are you._

With that, my entire world changed. Possibility bloomed in my head and heart, dreams of a future filled with companionship and…love…were created. And the more we touch, the more we speak to each other, the more deeply I fall. I wonder if she ever doubted her ability to drag me to the light—Luke scolded her for going to the dark, but he never understood that she only did so because she could easily light the way. She controlled the Force and lived her life in a way I had never seen before—juggling both darkness and light with ease. She could dance between both like she knew exactly where the line stood. And such a dance is so seductive. How could one not follow her?

When she urges me to sleep this time, I know I have not been fooling her with my meditation. The dark circles under my eyes betray me. She hums a little and her hand moves just a touch back and forth, as if to soothe. It does, and my eyes are heavy. I fall asleep listening to her voice rising and falling, such a sweet sound. My enchantress, willing me into slumber.

**Rey**

We are deep in sleep when a loud banging on the door wakes us both up. Ben growls and gets up, untangling his legs and arms from mine. For a moment, I am shocked and freeze. I am still weak, and without the Force…how will I fight? But then Ben drags me to him, clutching my body to his. Immediately my treacherous body relaxes as if the closeness of him to me is as familiar as a staff in my hand. I try to push him away after a moment to stand on my own—so I won’t look so weak--but my legs tremble and he simply drags me to him again. The banging persists, and I clutch his large arm.

Then I hear a shout.

“Rey! Rey, get away from the door!”

I gasp and a wide, true smile cracks my dry lips. I can taste the blood on my lips, but I don’t care.

“Finn!” I yell, and I feel Ben stiffen. “Finn!”

Finally, we are freed! My friends, they hadn’t forgotten about me. In the deepest darkest corner of my heart, I had truly feared they had forgotten or given up on me. Abandoned me like my parents had in the desert sun.

 _Not like Ben,_ whispers that traitor girl in my head, the one who swoons at his touch even now. Stupid, weak, insipid, traitorous girl—

The door bursts open and there, there are my friends. Finn and Poe, Chewie, even Rose. But Ben still hasn’t let me go, so I tug on his arms and Finn rushes forward. I fall into Finn’s arms and silly tears are running down my face but he’s warm and familiar and smells like leather and the sun and it is too much, too much.

“She’s still weak,” Ben snarls, and I feel the bond rejoice when he puts his hand on my arm.

“What did you do to her?” Finn growls but I pull back, shaking my head at him. Finn catches my eyes and we exchange a look.

I stand on my own, shakily. Ben and Finn still have a hand of each of my arms like I may fall. Outside, in the hall, alarms are blazing and shots are being fired.

“We need to get out of here,” Poe says, warning in his voice. Chewie agrees with him and steps forward, offering me his hand. But Ben scoops me up without warning.

“I’ve got her,” he says, and Chewbacca smiles a little.

Finn glares at Ben, but Rose grabs onto his arm.

“C’mon! There’s no time to lose!” She hisses.

We rush into the hall, Chewie and Poe with blasters blazing. As Ben and I leave the room, I look over his shoulder at the small, dingy place we shared for so long, and something inside me aches. We manage to get to the main hangar unscathed, and I hold onto to Ben for dear life as he moves quickly. The falcon is there, with some people I don’t know guarding it. Resistance soldiers? New recruits?

We finally make it inside and Ben moves within the corridor easily, taking me to a room with a small bed. He places me there gently, and I see Finn hovering over his shoulder.

“Hey, sunshine,” Finn says softly, unscrambling some tubes and needles. “What happened to you?”

I smile up at him. “I dunno, caught a bug,” I say, trying to pass it off as a joke. But he doesn’t smile. Rose comes into the room with a blanket, which I take from her gratefully. I hold my wrist out and see Ben hovering at the end of the room, his dark eyes hollow and anxious.

I wince as the needle pricks me and I see his adam’s apple bob. Finn connects the tubes and I can see the liquid run down as my body takes it in.

“I’m ok, Finn,” I say quietly, but I can’t take my eyes off Ben. “I’m on the mend, I promise.”

He looks worried, and squeezes my hand. “We’ve got a new base with great medics anyways. You’ll be a hundred percent soon enough.”

I see Rose hand Ben a blanket, which he looks at with stupidity, but takes. She leaves, and I can see Ben begin to follow her.

“Wait,” I say, and we lock eyes. I don’t know what to say, I just know that my heart picks up beat at the thought of him leaving. His eyes are very dark and soft, and I just can’t say anything.

Ben comes closer and spreads his own blanket over me. Finn does not move over for him, making it slightly awkward.

“He needs fluids too,” I say softly to Finn, who grimaces.

“I’m fine,” Ben says tightly, but his hollowed eyes, grayish skin, and sharp cheekbones tell a different story.

“We’ll be landing soon,” Finn tells me, and I press my lips together firmly in disapproval. But the ship rocks as it comes out of hyperspace, and I know his words to be true.

I look to Ben again, but see he is staring at Finn, or rather, Finn’s hand holding mine. He does not lift his gaze until I whimper as the ship rocks too hard, and even then his eyes are as hard as black diamonds.

I lean back and close my eyes as I feel the drugs starting to work through my system, making me sleepy. My last thought is of Ben’s eyes, hard and fierce and snapping in the hollows of his face.

~

When I wake, I’m in a med unit. A doctor explains to me that I caught some kind of sickness that’s usually vaccinated for, just like Ben thought. I ask where he is, and the doctor assures me he is just in the next room, also being treated with nutrients and fluids like I am. Our implants will be removed as soon as we are stronger, the doctor tells me.

Finn and everyone come to see me. Finn brings me a pine tree bough, which I smell greedily. Smells so good, so real. They stay for a while and catch me up on the news. The Resistance is double, triple the size it used to be—after Leia’s death was made public, thousands flooded in to support her last cause. It’s all due to her that we have such a nice, big base with working droids and medics. I hold back my tears again, not wanting to cry in front of my friends. I know I should be happy, and I am. I am free. But something gnaws at me. A lingering sadness, fear, and loneliness. I think of Ben, alone in his room and feel so very wrong. He should be here too.

The doctor comes in and shoos out my friends, who say goodbye very sweetly and reluctantly. She gives me some medicine to sleep and dims the lights for me before leaving me alone, for the first time in months.

I don’t like it; it feels wrong. I could easily call back one of my friends, but I know that isn’t what I want. What I want is a firm, warm, strong body laying next to mine, holding me like I am precious. I want to feel our bodies hum with satisfaction at their closeness. I want to satisfy the yearning calling out into the void. I want Ben.

It's stupid. It’s my stupid mooning lovesick part of my brain that wants the bond to be something more. I swallow dryly and remind myself that it was just an accident—it was the unintentional brush of two like minds against each other. It isn’t special, it isn’t fate. It’s nothing. Just like me.

I feel a familiar thickness in my throat and I turn over on the hard bed. But I can feel my emotions running away again. I’m going to cry.

I don’t want to cry. This is stupid. I push myself up, and feel some relief in my body as I let myself be prey to my weakness—I am going to him. I grab the IV and drag it across the floor and into the hall. I follow my feelings down the corridor, finding that he is just a few doors down.

I hesitate at the doorway, but when I lift my eyes, I see that he is staring straight at me from his bed. He reached out, beckons me forward.

I fight myself for a long moment—what if he rejects you? What if…what if he truly doesn’t want you?

“Rey,” he says, breaking my dark reverie. His eyes are soft, almost pleading. And I am going towards him before I even realize that my feet are moving.

He takes me into his arms, his hands so, so gentle. Like I could break. Usually, I would mind. But right now, I appreciate his carefulness.

“I missed you,” he confesses. “Did you come because…?”

I shake my head. “I feel it too,” I assure him. The pull is just as much from me as it is from him.

I’m enfolded into his embrace. I can hear his heartbeat, such a strong and simple sound. I look at him from my place on his chest, examining him. In the dim light, his dark circles are less pronounced. He also has an IV. He has washed, his hair shiny and clean. I want to touch it.

He swallows, and I realize he’s caught me staring. I meet his eyes, unabashed. He looks at me queerly, his expression unreadable.

“I can’t figure you out,” he whispers. “I don’t understand what…what you want.”

I bite my lip and look away. I’m not even sure what I want. I mean, it seems simple—I want Ben. But I also don’t want to be rejected again, thrown away just like my parents did.

Ben shifts and his scent—underneath the sweetness of soap—fills my nose. He tightens his grip on me, as if he knows what I am thinking about.

Tears finally flow out of my eyes, uncontained. I have never felt weaker, more vulnerable. I might as well be naked in front of his eyes.

“Oh…sweetheart…” Ben says, his warm breath washing over me as he sits up, cradling me against his chest. His sweet, unexpected endearment makes me cry a little harder.

He doesn’t hush me, or tell me not to cry. He just holds me, tucking my hair back and murmuring sweet things in my ear as I cry.

“It’s ok, you’re safe,” he whispers. I hiccup and nod, but something inside of me screams ferally. I will never feel safe.

I grab onto his hospital gown like it is my raft in an ocean of grief. Ben hums a soft little song, which somehow soothes me. My panic, my sadness—it all begins to secede.

My head is resting at the juncture of his neck and shoulder, snug and close to his skin and to his heart. After I stop crying, I close my swollen eyes. Part of me just wants to sleep here, just like this. I am calm for the moment, and it is a sweet relief.

“Tired?” He asks. I nod. I am exhausted, as I am sure he is.

“Do you want me to take you back to your room?” He says, and I stiffen. But this time, I summon my strength and push up from him so that we can look at each other eye to eye. I know I am on his lap, the moment too intimate, but I cant bring myself to push back any farther.

I swallow hard. And meet his eyes.

“I want you, Ben,” I manage slowly.

For a moment, he looks shocked. Then he looks away. “You just think that you need me, Rey,” he says softly. “You will remember how to be on your own again.”

I grab this stupid man by his cheeks and force him to stare back at me.

“That’s not what I said,” I reply, a little harsher than intended. “I said I want you. I don’t need you for warmth, or to satisfy the bond. I want you. I just…I want to be with you.”

He stares at me, his lips parting. I watch those plush, red lips for a moment.

“I want you with me, always,” I whisper. “Even before the cell, I wanted to be with you. I was afraid then. But now that I know what it’s like, I don’t want to be separated.”

He continued to say nothing.

“Say something,” I plead, and slip my hands from his cheeks.

He grabs my right hand and squeezes it before placing it back on his marred cheek.

“I want you too,” He finally says. “I’ve never wanted anything more.”

I lick my lips, a question resting on my lips. He looks at my lips, then my eyes.

“Then why didn’t you come with me after Snoke’s death?” I ask. “Why wasn’t I enough then?”

Ben shakes his head. “Because I was a fool. A selfish fool who only wanted things his way. I thought if you didn’t choose me and my way, I could live without you—just like I thought I could live without sunlight, or food. I see the truth now, just as I did the moment you were gone. I cannot be without you. That's why I called you back to me.”

Stupid betrayal tears are running down my cheeks, but his words soothe an itch in my soul that has plagued me all these months. His cheeks are wet too though, and he moves to kiss away my tears. I smile.

He pauses, caught. “You’re so beautiful, Rey.”

I smile a little still, but shake my head. “I haven’t even washed,” I mutter.

“It doesn’t matter,” he says. “None of that matters to me.”

I am struck by this, and am filled with an urge I have never experienced before. I want him closer, so close that I can taste the salt of his sweat, so close that I can feel him and only him. Where there was once curiosity now is desire. My insides clench, reminding me how we are but two. I want more than that. I want us to be one.

Carefully, I remove my IV. Ben grabs my wrist, protesting. But I hush him and slip from my hospital gown, which floats to the floor.

Ben stares at me, overtaken. Finally, his eyes meet mine, and I can see the conflict there.

“Love me, Ben,” I whisper. “Please.”

His eyes close as if he is in pain. But then he is so, so close—running his nose and lips along the side of my face, the touch of his forehead against mine featherlight. He shifts us, and I feel the gentle pressure of his weight on mine, and welcome it. It is more familiar to me than my own scent.

“You’re still recovering,” he mumbles. “We can’t-“

“Yes,” I urge. “I want you so badly.”

He groans and bites his lip.

“Don’t, Rey,” he warns. But I wrap my arms around him and untie his hospital gown, happy when it too falls to the floor beside the bed.

He is different than he was before. His pale flesh is less bulky, more lean. His cheeks and waist are thinner, but there is still a dark line of hair leading down to his groin. I follow that line, my cheeks warming as I glance at his flushed erection, already ready and twitching to be inside me. At least part of him does not protest.

He leans in closer and my heart speeds up as our eyes meet. He hesitates, his lips just hovering before mine.

“I love you,” he whispers so softly that I know that his words were meant only for me. Then his lips press against mine.

He is soft and gentle at first, but when I respond by grabbing his hair and pulling him closer, deepening the kiss, he becomes much more rough. He nips at my lower lip, tracing my tongue with his. I can feel his member leaking onto my thigh as he presses closer. I too, have become slick and my insides pulse with want. Despite having experienced it my whole life, emptiness has never been so painful.

We kiss and kiss and kiss for ages. Even though he is eager and passionate, there is something unhurried about him. I feel relaxed because of it. We have time, I think. We have all the time in the world now.

His fingers travel down and carefully traces my stiff nipple. He quickly squeezes my breast and groans into my mouth.

He pulls back, hungrily looking down at my breasts. “Please Rey, let me-“

I pull him to me and his mouth attaches to my breast. The smooth, wet feel of his tongue against my uncomfortably tight nipple feels so good. He sucks and I keen.

I grab his hand and practically shove it onto my mound. He dips into the slickness inside me and then circles around my bud, causing me to thrash even though it feels so so good. It sends sparks up and down my spine, and pleasure pools in my abdomen, tight and ready.

He removes his mouth from my breast to kiss me on my mouth again. He is rubbng me so nicely now, but he doesn’t understand, it hurts to be so empty and aching. I pull my lips away from his and catch my breath against his shoulder.

“Now Ben,” I say, and he frowns.

“Let me prepare you, Rey—”

“No!” I say. “I need you now. I don’t care if it hurts.”

Ben looks frustrated—he wants to take care of me and I won’t let him. But he also wants to please me, so he lines himself up and slips inside in one smooth gesture.

It does hurt—like a bitch. I tense and whimper, throwing my head to the side, all pleasure forgotten.

This hurts him—I see regret all over his face.

“Sweetheart,” he says sadly, kissing my cheeks and forehead. “I’m sorry.”

I shake my head a bit and will myself to relax. I’m with Ben, he’s finally inside me. I experimentally widen my legs and he slips deeper inside me, stretching me fully. Damn, he’s big. But it feels better now—like my muscles were waiting to be stretched there. Waiting just for him.

I urge him to move and he does, his expression betraying how good it feels to him.

“Talk to me,” I plead. I don’t want the connection to end.

He pauses, his eyes soft and sweet. The brown of them is like molten chocolate.

“I love you so much, Rey…sweetheart…I don’t ever want this to end.”

I wrap my arms around his neck and pull him close again for a kiss. “Stay with me,” I whisper. “Stay with me always.”

“Always,” he echoes with a grunt. He has picked up a nice rhythm, and I am almost lost now in just feeling him inside me. It feels so right.

“Harder,” I say. “I need it.”

He picks up the pace, his hips thrusting back and forth much faster.

“Tell me you’re mine,” he says, a dark glint in his eyes—desperation. “Tell me, Rey.”

“I…I…I…” I whimper as he thrusts even harder, hitting something so good inside me that I can’t even speak.

“Say it darling,” he urges. “I need you so badly, sweetheart.”

I can feel it, can feel his love for me. It’s in the force, in my body and on my lips as he kisses me. I tip my head back against the pillow.

“Yours!” I gasp out. “I’m yours!”

He hips piston back and forth, snapping harder than before. I find myself getting closer and closer to the edge, then finally…

“Ben!” I shriek.

He curses, loudly, and I feel him pulsing inside me. We are both shaking from the pleasure and exertion, and there is only a long moment before Ben pulls out and collapses beside me on the narrow hospital bed.

Panting, I feel like I cannot move as he curls around me, kissing my forehead.

“We shouldn’t have done that,” he mumbles, fumbling for my IV to re-insert it. I wave him off. I don’t care that I’m covered in sweat and that my heart is beating a little too fast. I loved every moment of us being together.

He must see some hurt on my face, for he pauses, his hand curled around my wrist.

“I didn’t mean—”

“I know,” I interrupt. He watches me, unsure, then moves to kiss me very sweetly. He hovers over me again after breaking the kiss, his eyes searching mine.

“I can see everything when I look at you,” he whispers. “Hope, the future, a home. I hope you know that.”

I didn’t, and his words fill me with warmth. I carefully drape my arms around his neck.

“I love you, Ben.”

He smiles so beautifully, so wide and genuine without a trace of shyness or sarcasm. It is the first time I have ever said those words to him.

He buries his face in my neck, and I smile. For the first time since leaving the cell, I don’t feel so naked. I feel stronger, like I am no longer afraid. I may be weakened but nothing, nothing could ever take this away from us.


End file.
